


Scars

by CombineGLaDOS



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, F/F, Injury, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Scars, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 08:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16215158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CombineGLaDOS/pseuds/CombineGLaDOS
Summary: Fareeha ends up severely injured during a mission. Angela knows that it's not her fault, but she can't help but feel she is to blame.





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> So this was the piece I wrote for [ Femwatch: After Dark](https://femwatchthezine.tumblr.com/). The zine has a lot of really cool people in it so please check it out!

When Angela began dating Fareeha Amari, she knew that she would be dating someone who she would see get hurt. Angela  _ also _ knew Fareeha was someone whose life would have to save on more than one occasion. It wasn’t the first time Angela found herself in such a relationship and because of it, she had assumed that  _ when  _ Fareeha received an injury that she would be more than equipped to deal with it..

Over the two and a half years they had been together, Fareeha had never sustained anything close to a serious injury with her armour taking the brunt of most the damage she received while in the air. Angela was somewhat surprised that the worst she’d had to do was relocate Fareeha’s knee after she had attempted a ‘superhero landing’ only for it to have gone wrong, and that fact made it all the more painful when Fareeha finally did get hurt.

As thankful as everyone was at Overwatch to finally have Amélie back, it did mean that any snipers deployed by Talon would actually try to hit their shots. It only took one moment during their recent mission in Egypt where Angela left Fareeha alone in the air as she helped Brigitte and Reinhardt on the ground, for her to get hit.

Reinhardt caught Fareeha as she fell out the sky, Angela’s heart in her mouth as she rushed over to her. Her hands shook as she readied her staff and soon a yellowish glow enveloped Fareeha. The minor scratches on Fareeha’s face healed, but the gunshot wound stayed, bleeding freely. At that point, they rushed back to the dropship and went for the nearest hospital. Angela wanted to assist in the operation and all but begged the surgeons to allow her into the theatre. Lena had eventually persuaded Angela to let the surgeons do their work, but it did nothing to prevent the fear that was clouding her mind so heavily for the three hours Fareeha was in theatre.

Once Fareeha was in recovery, Angela didn’t leave her side. She couldn’t help but feel great relief when Fareeha woke up several hours later, even if all she managed to do was tell a terrible joke about truly falling for Angela before falling back to sleep. After that, it was a case of waiting for Fareeha to be considered well enough to leave the hospital and be put on a flight back to Gibraltar. Angela left Egypt a week before Fareeha’s flight to ensure the medical department at the Watchpoint was running smoothly and that she had everything at home to take care of her still healing wounds.

At first, it was very obvious that Fareeha liked being the centre of Angela’s attention, but the novelty wore off after a few weeks when the reality of not having her independence finally sunk in. Angela was busy redressing Fareeha’s wound when she first complained.

“Habibti, at least let me help hold the gauze in place while you wrap it.” Fareeha reached to her right to grab one of the extra pairs of gloves Angela had brought up with her, but her hand was swatted away. “ _ Angela. _ Please, let me help.”

“You can help by not fidgeting so much while I do this” Angela sighed. When she finished with the front wound, Angela aided Fareeha with rolling over so that she could tend to the one on her back.

Fareeha didn’t need to see Angela’s face to know she grimaced at the state of her back when she pulled the old dressings away. “Hey, look on the bright side. It would’ve been worse if I wasn’t in my armour.”

“You wouldn’t _be_ _here_ to point out the ‘bright side’ if you weren’t in your armour.” She countered, issuing Fareeha a ‘look’. 

Fareeha didn’t say anything in response to that, and both she and Angela sat in silence until Angela told her she could roll over onto her back again. She stripped her gloves off and threw them in the bag that was on the floor next to the bed, tying it once it was full and making a mental note to dispose of it properly later.

“It’s healing well. I  _ might  _ even let you start doing some physical activity next week.  _ If  _ it stays improving at the rate it is.” Angela busied herself with playing with Fareeha’s fingers, glancing up at her face just in time to see her smirk. “Not  _ that _ kind of physical activity, liebling.”

Fareeha put on the most melodramatic performance she could muster in response and threw her arms up. “I would never assume that you meant sex.”

Angela merely shook her head at Fareeha’s theatrics before allowing herself to cuddle with her for a few moments before she went about ordering them something to eat.

 

*****

 

Over the next few weeks, Fareeha had improved at a rate that had impressed her. Angela was more than happy to let her start with light training again, but Fareeha kept pushing the boundaries of what constitutes light training and eventually she just signed off on Fareeha engaging in more moderate exercise. Everyone seemed happy to see Fareeha back on base too, even if she wouldn’t be medically cleared for missions for at least another two months. Even though Ana had been to visit Fareeha at home during the start of her recovery, she waited until there was a group of their friends together before she began berating her for not being careful. Angela hid her grin behind her hand as Fareeha went bright red.

As time went on, the wound healed into an angry, red scar before fading to a much less vibrant pink. It was when it reached that state that Angela realised she had difficulty seeing it. Before, it was just a gunshot wound that Angela had to treat. It didn’t matter that it was on her girlfriend, and that it nearly caused her death; all that mattered was that it healed properly. Now that it had healed, Angela could barely bring herself to look it, because everytime she did she remembered how the shot rang out, and how Fareeha plummeted to the ground. She thought that maybe if she’d stayed in the air, trusted Brigitte to be able to take care of Reinhardt by herself, that Fareeha would never have taken the bullet.

Fareeha didn’t seem to notice Angela’s apprehension at first, and Angela would’ve liked it to have stay that way for as long as possible. She knew she should talk to Fareeha about her feelings and concerns, but it was still difficult for Angela to talk about such things concerning Fareeha at the best of times. Of course, as much as Angela wanted to deal with her feelings alone and without concerning Fareeha, she was quickly reminded that it was hard to get anything by Fareeha anymore.

“Do you blame yourself for what happened?” Fareeha asked one day over tea.

It was one of their rare, shared days off. They rarely ventured much further than their bedroom when they had a whole day to spend together, but Angela had spent most of the day neck deep in her research. It had taken Fareeha promising coffee and a home cooked meal to get Angela up from the basement.

“Blame myself for what?”

“You know what, Angela.” Fareeha placed her cup down and took Angela’s hand across the table. She waited for Angela to answer, but it became apparent that she wasn’t getting one at this moment. “It’s okay,” She added, “We don’t have to talk about this now if you’re not ready to.”

Angela watched as Fareeha stood up from the table and walked over to the oven. She turned over the idea of talking to Fareeha in her mind and by the time her girlfriend was plating up their food she’d decided that she would breach the subject, but after lunch. It would be a serious conversation, and having it before eating would just spoil their food because they’d be so busy talking that it would just go cold.

They finished their food mostly in silence and because Fareeha had cooked, Angela banished her to the living room while she did the dishes. By the time Angela put away the last plate, Fareeha had found a terrible action movie on tv and was halfway to being completely engrossed in it. Angela sat on the other sofa in the living room and upon noticing Fareeha paused the movie. Sitting away from each other was generally a fairly big indicator of an impending ‘talk’.

“You wanted to know if I blamed myself for what happened,” Angela began. She watched as Fareeha shuffled slightly on the sofa she was occupying until she was facing Angela fully. “I do. I know I shouldn’t, because even if I was in the air with you at that time I couldn’t have stopped you from being shot.”

Fareeha nodded as Angela spoke, giving her her full, undivided attention. She sat in silence as Angela continued to talk about how she could’ve maybe prevented Fareeha’s injury from being near fatal if she was with her, how looking at the scar made her feel ill, like she’d failed the one person she loved more than anyone else. Fareeha sat and listened and waited until she was certain Angela was done saying her piece before she spoke up, something Angela was thankful for.

“I understand how you feel. When you were hurt at Nepal, I blamed myself for so long. I spent such a long time believing that if I’d done something different, you wouldn’t have been hooked and shot,” Fareeha paused and took a deep breath. “Looking at your implant hurt, because I felt as though it was something that was only there due to my own mistake, but eventually I realised I probably couldn’t have done anything. I actually ended up feeling thankful for it, because it occurred to me that having the implant, seeing the scars on your back, it meant that you were alive.”

Angela looked at the ground while Fareeha spoke. She couldn’t help but feel a strange case of deja vu. Back when her spinal implant still needed the kinks working out, before the scars scattered across her back had faded into barely there marks, Angela had had to sit down and have a long talk with Fareeha. She liked to believe she had an understanding of how Fareeha felt at the time, but only now did Angela realise how truly awful she must have felt. Angela was so caught up in remembering the last time they went through something like this she didn’t realise Fareeha had stopped speaking.

“Angela? Are you okay?”

“Hm? Oh,” she paused. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Fareeha looked at Angela as though she didn’t believe her, which Angela supposed was fair given that she wasn’t entirely telling the truth. She always found it easier to be the voice of reason than the one being reasoned with.

“Okay, so this is a  _ probably _ a dumb idea, but it’s an idea,” Fareeha began, moving from her sofa to the one Angela was on. “One of the things that made it easier for me to cope with what happened to you was seeing the implant. The more I looked at it, the more comfortable I grew with knowing it was there and the less I dwelled on it and blamed myself. Maybe that would work for you?”

Angela tossed the idea about in her mind. Fareeha was probably right in it being a bad idea, seeing as the two of them generally had different methods for coping with things, but it could help. After all, similar methods had worked in the past with things Angela blamed herself for (mostly her friends being injured), so perhaps this would be a rare occasion where something that helped one of them helped them both.

“If it makes me feel uncomfortable, or makes me feel worse, we’ll stop, right?” Angela asked, finally looking up at Fareeha for the first time since they sat down for this conversation.

“Of course. Just say and we’ll stop and try and work something else out.” Fareeha smiled, reaching out to hold both of Angela’s hands. “Do you want to go do it now or later?”

For a second, Angela didn’t know what to answer. Doing it now while her emotions were still running high might make seeing the scar more likely to affect her negatively, but right now Angela felt as though she could at least try to go through with it. Later on, when this conversation was in the past, she might not be able to convince herself to look, and so she stood and led Fareeha upstairs to their room.

At some point during the short walk up the stairs and to the bedroom, Angela’s nerves calmed to the point that she felt as though she could do this with no problem whatsoever. The moment Fareeha hopped on the bed and took her shirt off, however, her concerns came back with a vengeance. She tried to calm herself, taking deep breaths to alleviate her nerves, but one shaky exhale was caught by Fareeha.

“Do you want to stop?” She asked, not putting her shirt back on but using it to cover her torso.

Angela shook her head. “No, I’m okay. Just… keep your shirt how it is. I think I know how I can make this work.”

Fareeha nodded and Angela made her way to the bed. She kneeled next to Fareeha and pulled her shirt down slightly, just enough to see the long healed scar on her girlfriend’s shoulder from the time she was hit by shrapnel.

_ Not my fault. _

Angela pulled Fareeha’s shirt down further. On the top of her left breast, Fareeha had a burn mark from when she’d been stabbed with a hard light blade. Her armour stopped it going deep enough to cause any real harm.

_ Not my fault. _

The more Angela moved the shirt, the more scars and marks came to light. Some of them born from injuries that happened before Fareeha joined overwatch, and some of them were from after. Most of them were gained from battle, but there was the odd couple that Angela remembered patching up after Fareeha had finished sparring with someone.

With each scar revealed, Angela reminded herself that they weren’t her fault. That nothing she did could’ve prevented Fareeha gaining them. It made her feel a strange sense of calm, but it didn’t make her any less reluctant to pull back the shirt and see the scar on Fareeha’s stomach. Still, it had to be done. Angela steeled her nerves, counted to ten, and picked up the shirt, throwing it off to the side somewhere.

The scar wasn’t a bright, angry red anymore, but it still had yet to fade as much as the many others decorating Fareeha’s body. Angela ran her fingers over it, feeling the bumps and roughness of the skin. For a moment, Angela slipped into physician mode, silently noting how well the gunshot had healed, but she was brought back into the moment by Fareeha shuffling slightly.

“Not my fault.” Angela said as she ghosted her fingers over the scar yet again. It was the first time she spoke in ten minutes. She repeated the phrase twice over before it finally settled in. It didn’t make the blame she put on herself vanish entirely, but it certainly helped.

“Feel any better?” Fareeha asked quietly.

“I do,” Angela answered, her eyes meeting Fareeha’s as she smiled. “Thank you for this, liebling. I love you.”

“I love you too, ya amar.” Fareeha stretched one arm out towards Angela and encouraged her to cuddle up next to her side.

Angela settled into Fareeha’s side and placed her arm across her stomach. She idly stroked her hand along Fareeha’s side, the bottom of her palm occasionally catching against the raised skin from the healed gunshot. She didn’t not not mind it, but it wasn’t bothering Angela nearly as much as it would’ve done earlier that day. 

They cuddled in silence for a while and Angela was convinced that Fareeha must have fallen asleep when she felt her kiss the top of her head. Angela returned the gesture with a kiss to her shoulder. She felt Fareeha’s hand move to under her chin and let her tilt her head up so they could share a kiss. It started out fairly leisurely, but it became deeper when Fareeha buried her hand in Angela’s hair to pull her closer.

Angela moved to straddle Fareeha. She bit back a groan when Fareeha’s fingers dug into the skin surrounding the metal spine. As Fareeha busied herself massaging the tissue surrounding the implant, Angela kissed a trail from her mouth to where her shoulder met her neck.

“God, I love you,” Fareeha said, one hand moving up from Angela’s back to tangle in her hair again.

“Mhm,” was all Angela said in response, too busy sucking mark on the skin to say anything else. Besides, right now she was more intent on showing Fareeha that she loved her, rather than saying it.

Angela finished with sucking a bruise on to Fareeha’s neck and began to kiss further down her body, lips occasionally brushing past a long healed scar. Although there was no shirt in the way, Angela’s path down her girlfriend’s body was still interrupted by the sports bra she had on. She sat back long enough for Fareeha to pull it off, but the moment she laid back down Angela brought her mouth to one nipple while she rolled the other with her forefinger and thumb.

“Angela, please,” Fareeha moaned, lightly pushing her shoulder to encourage her to go lower.

She didn’t need much more than that push to start going lower, kissing a trail down to Fareeha’s pants. Along that way, she stopped to lavish the scar that caused her so much self hatred with attention.

Angela made quick work of Fareeha’s pants and underwear. She was already wet and Angela didn’t wait more than a second before licking a stripe from Fareeha’s entrance to her clit, circling it with her tongue when she got there. Above her, Fareeha moaned quietly and grabbed at the pillow behind her head.

Fareeha was already wet enough that Angela could slip a finger inside and she did so slowly, in case it wasn’t something Fareeha wanted today. When she did nothing to stop her or communicate that it wasn’t what she wanted, Angela buried her finger up to the knuckle and stroked against the spot on Fareeha’s front wall, continuing to lick circles against her clit.

Fareeha remained fairly quiet despite Angela’s ministrations up until she slipped a second finger inside and redoubled her efforts. It wasn’t long after that that Angela felt Fareeha grow tighter and clench around her fingers as she came with moan that sounded like Angela’s name. She continued to lick and suck and tease her through her orgasm. When Fareeha started to fidget against her from overstimulation, she kissed her way back up her body, ending with a kiss to her lips.

“I love you, so much more than you realise,” Angela said when they broke apart. She felt a tear roll down her face which Fareeha promptly wiped away. It occurred to her that the last half an hour had been highly emotional for her and now she was more overwhelmed by it all than anything else.

“I think I have an idea,” Fareeha laughed, continuing to stroke Angela’s cheek with her thumb.

Her eyes were full of adoration, enough for Angela to realise that while she loved Fareeha more than she will ever know, the same was true for how much Fareeha loved her. In that moment she realised she wanted to be Fareeha more than anyone else. She couldn’t do anything about it right now, not when she was beginning to get tired from everything that had happened that evening, but Angela now definitely knew it was she wanted.

  
  



End file.
